Stupid Is As Stupid Does
by Queen Of Bohemia
Summary: Rework: Blaise's summer was going well until it spirals into bedlam, rogue dementors on the loose, being made to partner with Wonderboy in Potions AND DADA! And the new defence teacher is out for her blood literally! oh, and Voldemort's back femBZHP
1. Chapter 1

Stupid Is As Stupid Does

'Blaise.'

A silence.

'_Blaise._'

I rolled onto my side and ignored the jabbing finger in my back.

'_Blaiseblaiseblaiseblaiseblaiseblaisebliaseblaise_–'

'WHADDDAYAAA WANT!!!' I shouted at last, shooting upwards in bed and nearly colliding with my brother's forehead. This was the third time he'd come in this morning and I was close to hexing him. Well, I already had but he ran off with my wand the second time so I hid under the blankets instead.

'Blaise, Mother said you have to get up _now_, she said you'll disgrace the family if you turn up late to meeting the Parkinsons.' I groaned. 'And Father says he'll let me practice my hexes on you, I saw this brilliant one in that book you gave me, where it makes the person's nose and ear hair grow.'

Not wanting to be made subject to my brother's attempt at cursing me I quickly slipped from my bed. 'All right, I'm up.' I grumble. 'Now go and get out of my room so I can have some privacy, and send Minny up with some breakfast.' I started rooting through my wardrobe for something to wear but my ears detected that Nikolas hadn't moved yet. He tends to stomp everywhere he goes.

'Still here?' I whirled around with a set of satin robes in my hands. I glared at him. 'What?'

'I'm not your slave!' he announced.

'Is that all? Alright then, now will you get Minny now? Please?'

Nikolas tilted his head to the side as he considered this, then he nodded. 'But only because you said please.'

I roll my eyes, at this rate my brother would end up a Hufflepuff. Shudder. 'Oh, and Nikky darling..'

Nikolas wrinkled his nose in disgust at 'Nikky'.

'Do you mind if I borrow that book?'

My brother stared at me almost fearfully, 'You're not going to use it on me, are you?'

I raised an eyebrow, 'Of course not, it's for someone else. Besides, you'd tell Mother.'

Nikolas nodded, 'Alright then, you can borrow it. But I want it back!'

'Of course, wouldn't dream of keeping it. Such vulgar things are hex books. And Nikolas?'

'Yes.'

'Get out of my room before I hex you into oblivion.'

He ran like he had a hoard of blast-ended skrewts at his heels. I sighed and turned back to my dresser, I love my brother really, only, he's such a brown-noser. Always running to tell Mother everything I do. The hex book wasn't for him, or for the random Gryffindors we might see in Diagon Alley. I was actually rather interested as to what Pansy Parkinson might look like with excess body hair, sprouting from ears and nostrils– surely an improvement?

There was a knock on the door and Minny, our house elf entered, carrying a large silver tray with my breakfast on, she had also put the Daily Prophet down next to it. I had started to cultivate an interest in the news recently, which my father greatly approved of, though what he didn't like was my keen interest in political matters. Especially when I started talking about muggleborns. Pureblood families were not supposed to be interested in the affairs of muggleborns or mudbloods as my father so crudely puts. Purebloods are the most prestigious and respected members of the wizarding community and must uphold certain beliefs. The primary one that all purebloods must only marry other purebloods, lest their line get tainted by a witch or wizard with muggle blood. This of course is stupid. I tried to explain to father the illogic of it all, marrying within families would only weaken the bloodline, interbreeding is not healthy and could make you susceptible to certain diseases. Father denies this and says it strengthens magic. I then pointed out that if we only married purebloods then wizards would die out as they aren't very many pureblooded families left. He told me to shut up.

As you can see, talking to Father about matters such as these is like talking to a brick wall. A very thick one at that.

I put down the robes in my hands and picked up the paper.

What I saw made me drop it instantly.

Staring back at me, on the paper's cover was the ghastly face of a dementor. Well, alright–– hood then, but it was still enough to send shivers down my spine. I remember in third year when the Ministry was looking for the escaped convict, Sirius Black, and we had some board the train, ugh, _never again_. I have no idea how the Azkaban Guard stand it, Father says they don't for very long, they have to work in hourly shifts and most of them quit after a couple of weeks. Eck.

I looked back down at the paper '_Dementors Attack Village!' _screamed at me from the cover. I sat down and read into the article.

_In the early hours of yesterday morning the seaside village of Coalmire was attacked by a group of rogue dementors _reports Georgina Starbuckle. _It is said that the group had somehow managed to make their way over part of the English Channel into the Coalmire Docks where they instantly set upon the villagers living there. Aurors were soon on the scene and managed to chase the creatures off, but not before the dementors had begun feeding. There were 7 fatalities in total, 2 of which were children and another man who took his own life rather than be subjected to the Kiss. Inquiries are being made as to how the dementors escaped, yet it is thought they were transported by boat over to the English coast by Death Eaters. Since the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named earlier this year, there have been various attacks on muggles and wizards alike, though none as this serious. When we asked what the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge intends to do about the attacks he replied: 'Well, we're doing the best we can, but what can we do against You-Know-Who?' When we pressed him further he told us to 'go away'. It has been commented that the Minister knew well before us that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had returned when Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived told him, yet we were told it was just pure make-believe on the boy's part. It seems that Fudge's suitability as Minister of magic may come into question; indeed, can a man who allows these attacks to continue without taking any further action be fitting for the place as Minister? In any case, we must think carefully if we want a wizard in charge who knew almost a year before that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had risen again but failed to tell us, is this really safe for our children? _

I stopped reading then, disgusted. Cornelius Fudge was a bumbling idiot, why on earth hadn't he been replaced?

'Is miss finished reading?' Minny piped up. 'Only Minny must make a start on lunch soon, Master is expecting guests.'

I wrinkled my nose and threw the paper to the side. When I was washed and dressed I made my way downstairs into the living room where Mother was sitting, drinking tea. 'Oh there you are Blaise!'

I winced; Mother has an incredibly shrill voice. 'Thank Merlin! Do you have _any_ idea how long I've been waiting for you this morning? Never mind, we have 10 minutes to meet the Parkinson's, I was hoping to look at this new set of dress robes in Madame Maulkins but I can't now.' She scowled at me.

I looked about the room, 'Mother, where is Father?'

'In his study but we really should––'

I left before she could finish speaking. I knocked on the door to my father's study and hear a cold 'Enter.'

I swept in and slapped the paper onto his desk. 'Look!'

My Father ignored it and continued with his writing. 'Blaise, I have already seen this morning's paper.'

'Then you've seen the article about the dementors?'

'_Blaise?'_ Oh Merlin, now Mother's come after me.

Father frowned; he did not like interruptions when he was working. 'Yes, I have seen it Blaise and I don't see why you are so anxious about it.'

'_Why_? Father, there are _rogue dementors_ on the loose, that village was attacked!'

'And you're point is?' I gaped at him stupidly. 'Blaise, I have work to do, now go with your mother I have no time for this, you're going to be late.'

'S'alright to be fashionably late,' I grumbled.

'_Darling_,' Mother interrupted. 'We already _are_ fashionably late, but soon we're going to be late for that and that's just _rude_.'

I ignored her and went on, 'Father, aren't you the least bit concerned? I don't even know how to produce a patronus I––'

'Blaise, not many wizards _can_ produce a patronus, especially at your age now if you don't leave this childish worrying I'm going to get angry.'

I took his hint and left, Father was not of the good-tempered sort, he had a fast fuse which took a while to die down. It ran in the family. The Zabinis were traditionally an Italian family but my Father moved over to England at a young age, because it suited him better. There he met my mother Rosalynn D'Amray and they got hitched and produced me and Nikolas. Hoo. There is a seven year age gap between me and my brother, so as you can imagine, we don't get on.

Father was still waiting for my compliance, his face started to turn pink across the cheeks and his eyes darkening. Better go. I grabbed Mother by the arm and dragged her to the fireplace. 'Quick Mother or we'll be late!' I muttered and grabbing a handful of floo powder, chucked it into the flames: 'Diagon Alley!' The last thing I saw was Mother craning her head at me weirdly before shooting upwards into the floo network.

I dislike the floo network, I find the spinning and shooting upwards at breakneck speeds rather unnerving, just as the awkward and sudden landing. I braced myself––

And landed on both feet! Hoo!

––And stumbled into the person in front of me, nearly knocking them over.

'Oh Merlin, sorry!' I gasped, quickly righting myself; I look up and find I have fallen into no other than Boy Wonder himself. Hoo. Go me.

He stared at me strangely with those bright green eyes, I tilted my chin up and said in my iciest tone of voice (imitated off of Uncle Lucius), 'My apologies Potter, it won't happen again. Now excuse me, you're in my way.' Then I pushed past him and into the street, all the while the voice in my head applauding and shouting 'Brilliant recovery, Blaise! Simply superb!'

Mother soon came bustling up to me, clutch bag in hand and smoothing her cloak out. 'You do know that young man's staring at you back there?'

I sniffed and turned around. If looks could kill, Potter would be on trial for murder now. I ignored the fact that he seemed to be trying to burn a hole in my back with the sheer force of his glare, and followed Mother up the street towards Gringotts, where the Parkinson's awaited us.

Pansy and her mother looked as if they had been stood there a while, whilst Pamela, her mother sent us a false friendly smile, Pansy sent me a look of intense dislike. I should definitely win the Miss Popular award for today. It was only when Pansy greeted me with a sneer that I realised I had forgotten to look at Nikolas's book. Damn.

You would think that Pansy and I would be good friends, considering the fact that she is Slytherin, like me. However, Pansy Parkinson is a selfish cow–– well, all Slytherins are selfish but she more than others. The reason she dislikes me, is the fact that she thinks I have a 'thing' with a Mr Draco Malfoy. First off: Shudder! Secondly: We are cousins. Third: Draco is a friend and there is no way that it will become anything more. Me going out with Draco Malfoy would be as unlikely as me fallen head over heels for Gryffindor Wonder Boy. Yeuch. That unlikely.

However Pansy doesn't seem to think so, but ah well, I can't help it if I'm better looking than her. Mind you, anything is preferable to her pug-like face. So therefore me and Pansy don't get on, she thinks I fancy Draco, I can't be bothered to tell her otherwise and take great pleasure when I see her making a fool of herself to get Draco's attention–– Which happens a least once a week at Hogwarts. And also when she starts simpering at Draco, quite sickening but in a way satisfying when you're in a mood with Draco.

Meanwhile Mother was giving Mrs Parkinson our excuses. 'Oh, I am _sorry_, Pamela darling! The floo network, such a drag! Had us queuing for nearly ten minutes!'

'Really? I've never heard of that before,' said Mrs Parkinson, frowning.

'I know! Simply _awfu_l isn't it?'

I rolled my eyes and turned to Pansy.

'So Pansy, heard the news? Awful about that dementor attack, isn't it?'

Pansy stared at me suspiciously, 'Yes, I suppose so,' she said finally.

'Isn't it?' I exclaimed, putting a hand over my heart, doing a brilliant impersonation of Mother. I truly have dramatic flair. 'When I heard––' I broke off and looked down as if the news had hurt me. 'Well, when I heard, I remembered that time in third year, you remember don't you?'

Pansy's voice went flat, 'What about it?'

I giggled, 'When Goyle went to lick the ice off the window, and his tongue got stuck…'

'Oh that,' she replied, forcing a laugh. 'I don't really remember much of–'

'But you must! I do, it was awfully scary, but really bad for you because––'

'Blaise––' Pansy interrupted desperately.

'You WET yourself!'

This was said loud enough that several passers by turned to look at us. Pansy had turned a beet red and was glaring at me; her mother and mine had turned to look at us. I continued as if I hadn't shouted out an incredibly embarrassing secret. 'I mean, you were only 13 at the time so that's understandable, they have such a terrible effect on people.' I patted her hand sympathetically. 'But don't worry Pans, your secrets safe with me.' I smiled beatifically and left Pansy, glowering at me with her face aflame. 'I'm just going to get some things! I'll be back later!' I called over my shoulder, hurrying off into the crowd. I don't think I was meant to have left Pansy on her lonesome, or rather, that Mother and Mrs Parkinson had entertained the idea that we would walk about town with each other. I left them no chance to catch me up.

One thing's for sure though, when I got home I would be in for it.

But until then… I think I'll try find a more advanced book on hexing spells.

**Yes, SIASD is being edited and updated, so reviews with CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM :P is welcome.**


	2. Chapter 2

Stupid Is As Stupid Does

Chapter 2 

_**Harry**_

Harry was tired.

It had been barely a month since Sirius had fallen through the veil and during that month Harry had become more withdrawn and reclusive. It was two days until the start of term and he finally had been given permission to leave the Dursley's where he'd been made to stay for the whole summer. The Dursleys themselves had left him pretty much to his own devices–– they had obviously heeded Moody's warning–– Uncle Vernon seemed especially unnerved about the old Auror's revolving eye and ignore Harry for almost 3 weeks. Towards the end of the summer though, they had started to get impatient. Wasn't Harry meant to be at his so-called 'friend's' now? Had they fallen out? The Dursleys were used to Harry leaving a couple of weeks before school started and were not best pleased about his extended visit. Harry himself was just as fed up as they were; he'd spent most of his time visiting Mrs Figg, trying to glean any goings on in the Order. Mrs Figg evidently felt sorry about his situation and tried stuffing him with cake and biscuits but remained firmly closemouthed about any of the Order's business.

To make matters worse, Harry was having nightmares almost every night–– images of Sirius, rigid and falling backwards through the veiled doorway and cold high pitched laughter, accompanied by flashes of bright green light and his mother's screams. It had been a long time since Harry had had a good nights rest and he was looking worse for wear. His normally bright green eyes were dull and had perpetual dark circles under them, his skin was of a sickly pallor and he'd lost a lot of weight. Being skinny in the first place didn't help, and now he closely resembled how Sirius had looked when he'd just escaped from Azkaban. There had been such a dramatic change in his appearance that even the Dursleys noticed. Uncle Vernon remarked one day that he looked like a walking corpse and Aunt Petunia had started giving him more food at meal times–– no doubt not wanting to be blamed for his current state.

Then just as Harry was about to give up hope of ever seeing his friends during the holiday, a letter arrived from Ron saying that they would meet him in Diagon Alley the next day. Harry was instructed to wait for a group of Aurors to escort him there, but by then he'd had enough. So there he found himself the next day, stood on a street corner in Diagon Alley with a packed trunk, booklist and an irritable Tonks who had been on guard duty when he left the house.

Harry looked down at his list, which had all the books required for the next year written down. He'd received his OWL results during the summer and had been shocked and amazed to find that he'd scraped an E in potions–– Snape wouldn't be pleased to see him again, but now he had the chance to become an Auror.

Tonks was still grumbling under her breath about Harry's stupidity, Harry ignored her and performed a shrinking charm so he could carry his trunk around in his pocket. He had just completed this when someone came sprawling into him from behind. At first he thought it Tonks, with her seemingly chronic clumsiness and the immediate apology that followed, yet when he turned around to help her he found himself staring into a pair of stormy grey eyes. The girl who had fallen into him jerked back in shock, and her face adopted an 'oh it's _you_' expression. What was her name? Harry had definitely seen her in his potions class, a quiet but hard working Slytherin. She was speaking: 'My apologies Potter, it won't happen again. Now excuse me, you're in my way.' Then she shoved past him into the street.

Harry glared after her. She'd been friendly until she'd seen his face… and that voice! She had no right to sound so scornful or look down her nose at _him_! Stuck-up cow, he thought. Then another person with curly black her pushed past him and started talking to the girl. Her shrill voice carried over to where he stood. 'You do know that young man's staring at you back there?'

Harry snorted but didn't stop. Zabini. That's the name! The girl turned back around to him, he glowered at her, but she didn't bat an eye, and walked off down the street with her mother. Harry stared; half the people he knew flinched when he looked at them like that. He scowled at her retreating back.

'Hey, Harry!' Harry didn't turn as he heard Ron's voice, after all, he'd promised to ring him over the holidays but he hadn't bothered.

Ron had walked up to him, Hermione beside him. Noticing he didn't have Harry's attention Ron looked at who did. 'Who's that?' he demanded. Then noticing Harry's expression he nodded knowingly. 'Ah, Slytherins.'

Harry turned at this, and a flicker of a smile flitted across his lips. He looked at the pair, then down at their entwined hands enquiringly. Ron turned scarlet and immediately tugged his hand away; Hermione's cheeks were rather pink too.

'We were just looking for you,' Ron explained.

Harry's eyebrow shot up, and behind him Tonks sniggered.

Hermione looked up, 'Oh, didn't see you there, Tonks,' she said brightly. 'Where are the rest of you? Didn't you bring Harry in a big group last time?'

Harry's face darkened and Tonks scowled. 'No, _he_ decided to leave before any of them arrived.'

Hermione frowned, 'Well, Harry that's really irresponsible of you. What if––?' She broke off as Harry rudely turned his back on her and started walking down the street. Harry could almost see the shocked look Ron was most probably giving him and the look the pair would exchange over Tonks.

He snorted. Right now he didn't need to be fretted over and reminded of his predicament by his own _friends_. It was rather ironic. After restlessly awaiting the day he'd see his best friends again and it'd not been two minutes before he wanted to get away again and be by himself. And why shouldn't he? It wasn't like anyone was going to attack him in broad daylight in the middle of the hustle and bustle that was Diagon Alley. It wasn't like he couldn't handle it either, Harry privately thought to himself. Harry was a powerful wizard. Incredibly powerful–– its not every wizard who can escape Voldemort 5 times and live to tell the tale–– well four times if you don't count the time when he was a baby…

Harry scowled. It was Voldemort's bloody fault. Everything. His hand crept to his pocket where he kept his wand and he squeezed it for reassurance. Voldemort would get what was coming to him; otherwise his name wasn't Harry Potter.

_**Blaise**_

I loved Diagon Alley; the weirdest and wonderful things you can imagine line its streets–– not. It was an hour and a half later and I was bored. After spending half of the money in my purse on school supplies and 2 interesting looking books I was ready for something new. One of the books, of course, was one with a series of nasty curses in it, entitled _'Vengeance is a Virtue' _, the other however, was a small spell book called _'Practical Magic'_ which, stupid though it sounds, is actually a book containing useful everyday spells you might need, like if you're lost it has a spell called the four-point spell which makes your wand a compass, and all these other charms, basic ones like 'accio' but also useful ones for around the home and that. You never know, it may come in handy.

I decided to sit in the sunshine (Gaah) outside Florian Fortesque's café and ordered a large mint chocolate chip sundae. As I ate it (I _adore_ ice cream) I opened up '_Vengeance is a Virtue' _and began to read. By the time I had finished my sundae I was almost half way through the book and was reading about a spell which seals people's lips closed. I naturally found this_ very _interesting–– I find the idea of a certain Miss Parkinson waking up in the morning silent for once _incredibly_ appealing, yet also the idea of the bushy-haired Granger unable to answer any questions in class. I had to sit with her once in Ancient Runes–– with her around you wouldn't need any windows open in summer, I was left in a permanent breeze… Then again it _was_ winter at the time, and I got very irritated by it, not to mention cold…

'_There_ you are!'

I looked up. Pansy, mother and Mrs Parkinson were looming above me, Mother had linked arms with Pansy's mother and both looked disgustingly cheerful.

I wanted them to leave.

'Ooh, darling! You've already bought your things? Good, we've been looking _every_where for you. I've got you this _lovely_ dress, dear. Absolutely _gorgeous_! We were coming for a bit of refreshment, shopping is such_ droll_ work, don't you think?' My Mother gushed all this at me as she took a seat.

I_ had_ to escape.

Just then, I saw Potter push down the street, his legs carrying him quickly through the crowd. He stopped suddenly, paused, and then turned into a street leading down to Knockturn Alley. He was alone.

I was curious, in spite of the fact he was Harry Potter: Gryffindor Wonder Boy and all my Slytherin instincts screamed that I should _not_ be interested in _any_ of his doings. But I was bored, and I was intrigued to know why he had the sheer stupidity to wander down _there_ alone.

I had stood up and had started to follow him before I was aware my legs were moving. 'Blaise? Where are you going?' Mother called.

'Forgot something,' I reply over my shoulder, and hurried in the direction Potter had taken.

I don't much like Knockturn Alley; it is a cold, dim place, even in at the height of summer and has the shiftiest looking people I have ever seen. I pulled my light summer cloak closer to my body and kept a firm grip on my wand beneath it. I'd only been twice before down Knockturn, once with Father, the second time with Uncle Lucius and Draco. Mother would never come; it was too dark and vulgar for her. However, I unlike her, possess a morbid curiosity of anything that remotely disgusts people. My fascination for Knockturn's murky streets still exists today, but now there is an edge of wariness to it.

I spotted Potter's messy head a few yards ahead and hurried onwards, careful though to keep a few paces behind, I didn't want him realising I was there.

Suddenly, a man to the side of me shot his arm out and grabbed my waist, pulling me next to him. 'Hullo my pretty,' he said, and I was engulfed in the foul stench of his breath.

'Release me,' I ordered coldly. He was wasting my time and Potter was getting away.

'I don't think so,' the man said with an arrogant smirk. He leered at me.

I glared at him and pulled myself away, but the disgusting cretin had a tight grip. I pulled out my wand to hex him but a large hand covered my mouth and I realised there was more then one man.

And I realised that Potter wasn't the one in trouble.

I was.

**I really like this chapter, so nothing changed with this!**


	3. Chapter 3

Stupid Is As Stupid Does

A couple of alterations here folks, can you stop em? Thanks for the reviews, keep me posted on your thoughts.

Chapter 3 

_**Harry**_

After extracting a pouch full of galleons from his vault, Harry had made his way over to Flourish and Blotts for his school books. Hermione and Ron had already bought their thing the previous week. 'Yeah, and you'll never who was there,' said Ron as he told Harry what had happened during their shopping trip, 'Bloody Malfoy.' Ron scowled. 'Came right up to me and Hermione, he did. He tried threatening us, the git. Shut up quick when we mentioned the raids at his manor. Still called 'Mione a mudblood though…'

Ron scowled as he said this and cracked his knuckles menacingly, as if Malfoy was just around the corner.

Harry frowned, 'Malfoy's an arse anyway, he won't be strutting about like he owns the place when his father's rotting in Azkaban.'

Hermione had been quiet since Harry had deliberately walked away from her earlier, but as they entered Flourish and Blotts she risked asking him what books he had to buy.

'Er, let's see,' Harry took out the list, running his eyes over it quickly. '_Standard book of Spells: Grade 6_… _Defensive Strategies_? I wonder who we have for Defence Against the Dark Arts this year, hopefully _not_ another Umbridge.'

Ron nodded fervently, 'Amen to that!'

Hermione meanwhile had gone looking for Harry's books and came back with a heavy black volume with '_Defensive Strategies_' on its spine in embossed silver letters.

'Big enough, isn't it?' Harry commented.

'Yeah, nearly killed me carrying all our books back to the Leaky Cauldron,' Ron muttered.

'You carried Hermione's too?'

Ron snorted, 'Like I had a choice, she kept running off ahead, leaving _me_ with everything.'

Hermione rolled her eyes, 'Stop whinging, Ron. Harry look,' she showed him one of the pages in the book. The page in question had the title 'The Elusive Charm' with a coloured picture of a person running up and down, the blurred edges of their form seeming to indicate the speed of their movements.

'It blurs your outline,' Hermione explained. 'So when you move, it's difficult for people to exactly pinpoint your position. All the spells are like that,' she said, closing the book with a snap. 'It seems that whoever's taking us for Defence this year wants us trained well.'

Harry nodded, almost to himself. 'D'you reckon its Moody?'

Hermione shook her head. 'No, I think he's doing Order work.'

At this Harry's head snapped up quickly and he pinned Hermione with a piercing stare. Ron decided at that moment to intervene, 'C'mon Harry, Tonks said we had to be back before five.'

Harry broke eye contact and grabbed the book, vanishing behind the shelves to find the other.

An hour or so later they were making their way back to the Leaky Cauldron when they were waylaid by the Weasley twins. 'Harry!' they cried, reaching their arms out towards him.

'How long it's been!'

'Look at how he's grown!'

'God, he's almost a man–'

'Seems like yesterday when we first met him–'

Harry laughed. 'How's the joke shop coming?'

'_Very_ well, you'll have to come and visit some time.'

'Yeah, and as our funder, me and Fred have decided to give you a free sample of every product we make.'

'Out of the goodness of out hearts,' Fred sniffed.

'Oh, budge over you two,' said a new voice, and a slightly taller Ginny Weasley came into view. She grinned and gave Harry a warm hug. 'Glad you finally turned up,' she said cheerfully. 'Ron was moping around the house–– you don't know how annoying that is.'

Harry smiled, 'Are you all staying at the Cauldron then?'

'Only us and Mum, Dad's working and Bill and Charlie are hardly ever here.'

Harry followed the twins into the inn; they greeted Tom with a loud 'Hullo' and pulled Harry upstairs.

'We already booked rooms,' George told Harry. 'You're sharing with Ron.'

They helped Harry dump his shopping onto the bed, 'Dinner's at six, we'll see you then.' And with that, Fred and George disappeared down the corridor.

Harry didn't know quite what to do when they had gone, and looked about the pokey room blankly.

'What're you doing?'

Harry looked around to see Ginny stood at the door. 'Nothing,' he replied.

Ginny raised an eyebrow, 'Oh? Not moping I hope?'

Harry grinned slightly, 'Nah, I just…' He looked own. 'How's your ankle?' he blurted suddenly.

If the question came to a surprise to her, Ginny didn't act like it. 'It's fine. You know Madam Pomfrey can mend broken bones in a jiffy.' She smiled, but this time there was more than a hint of sadness to it.

Harry noticed then how much Ginny had grown since he had last seen her, she was maturing quite rapidly, it appeared. She was no longer all angles and bones but had developed a gentle curviness and her hair had toned down from its vibrant orange into a rich auburn colour. She had become very pretty.

Harry exhaled slowly and turned back to the window. There was a loud clattering outside and the loud, echoing tones of Mrs Weasley rebounded down the corridor. '_YOU TWO_! HOW DARE YOU! DO YOU EVEN HAVE THE SMALLEST SHRED OF DECENCY LEFT BETWEEN YOU?'

Harry poked his head into the corridor with Ginny to see the source of the commotion. Mrs Weasley had her back to them, and by the sounds of it was chastising the twins. Again.

'WHAT WOULD YOUR FATHER SAY? BRINGING THOSE _STUPID_ JOKESWITH YOU INTO A PUBLIC PLACE! COULDN'T LEAVE THEM AT HOME COULD YOU? OH THE SHAME! WAIT TILL YOUR FATHER HEARS OF THIS! HOW CAN YOU BE SO UTTERLY STUPID? YOU–' Mrs Weasley broke off as the cleaner tried to inch past unobtrusively; Harry could hear her gasps from where he stood. Mrs Weasley followed the cleaner with a beady-eyed glare, who, whimpering almost sprinted past Harry's door.

On seeing Harry, Mrs Weasley seemed to deflate and a bright but tired smile lit up her face. 'Oh Harry dear!' she cried, enfolding him in a tight embrace. 'I had no idea you'd turned up.' She pulled away and held him at arms length, eyeing him critically. 'Look how thin you've got! Those muggles haven't been starving you have they?'

Harry looked down at the floor and slowly shook his head, surely he wasn't that thin? 'No, they've been fine,' he mumbled, slightly embarrassed.

Mrs Weasley didn't seem convinced, but before she could question him further she spotted Fred and George trying to creep away. She swelled until she looked like she was going to burst. Ginny covered her ears. 'YOU TWO!!!' Ricocheted down the corridor.

'C'mon,' said Ginny, grabbing Harry's arm. 'Let's go see Ron and Hermione.' She pulled him down the stairs to a parlour. There were raised voices inside and Harry pulled Ginny to a stop to listen.

'…Oh, come on Ron,' this was Hermione's voice. 'Have you actually looked at him? He's like a skeleton! He's obviously not eating properly–'

'Hermione that's those bloody muggles he lives with, they had him locked up once, or don't you remember?' they heard Ron argue.

'Muggles! Don't you ever listen to what people say? Harry only had to stay for the first 2 weeks with them! He could've gone to Grimmauld Place!'

Outside Harry immediately stiffened on hearing this.

Oblivious to the fact she was being eaves-dropped on, Hermione continued, 'I don't see why he couldn't have come and seen us there, didn't you ask him?'

There was a pause. 'Hermione, he wouldn't want to be there, besides Dumbledore doesn't want him close to the Order, you that they think Voldemort's using him to spy on them. And because of Sirius, he thinks it's his fault he died.

'It's Sirius's bloody fault that he's dead!' Hermione snapped.

Ginny gasped. Harry felt a surge of anger so hot and black at Hermione when he heard this he stepped out into the doorway of the room, just as Hermione was saying: ' If he wasn't such a hot headed idiot he–'

'SHUT UP!' Harry roared, making them both jump. Hermione paled, an expression of horror on her face.

'Harry, I'm sorry, I –'

'Shut up!' Harry repeated. He was so angry his breath came in short pants. 'Just shut up. Don't you – ever talk about – about S–' His throat seized up, becoming too tight to form words. He glared balefully at Ron and Hermione, then abruptly turned and left.

'Harry!' Ginny called after him, but he ignored her as he stormed from the room. The whole place seemed to have become incredibly small and cramped. I have to get out, he thought as a wave of claustrophobia passed over him. Away from the Aurors, away from his friends, away from anything that reminded him of his godfather.

His hands began to shake with pent up anger, Harry snarled and shoved his way through the door of the Leaky Cauldron and onto Diagon Alley. People stopped to stare at him as he ploughed his way through the crowded streets; however one look from his angry face convinced them to look the other way.

Harry clenched his fists as his whole arms began to tremble, the next person who looked at him would be picking their teeth out of the gutter. He walked on, coming to a sudden halt beside the entrance to Knockturn Alley. He could go there. The Aurors wouldn't look there for him because they wouldn't think him that _stupid_ to go down there.

Harry scowled, well screw the bastards! He turned and headed onto its dreary streets. Here the people merely glanced at him as they hurried on their way, eager to get back onto Diagon's sunny streets, yet there were more unwholesome characters who watched from the sides, their grubby faces blending with the gloom.

The hairs on the back of Harry's neck rose, and he received the distinct impression that he was being watched. Maybe it was a stupid idea to come down here alone, indeed, he was beginning to have certain misgivings about it and prickles of unease started to counteract his anger. The feeling of being watched intensified, and he fervently hoped that his fringe covered his scar. Then he heard a voice: 'Unhand me you dolts!' the icy tones in it sounded strangely familiar.

He swung around to catch a glimpse of long black hair and grey eyes. Zabini. And she was being attacked by two men.

One of the men backhanded her across the cheeks and she swayed as if dazed.

Then she swung forward and head butted him in the face. There was a crunching noise and the man started back with a strangled cry, blood gushing from his nose. Harry growled and started forward to help the girl, but as he did so the second man rushed at Zabini as she tried to escape. Grabbing her shoulders and thrusting her against the wall.

Her head connected with a sickening crack and she lay very still.

* * *

_**Blaise**_

I tried to wriggle out of his grasp and dodge sideways under his arm, but the movement had no effect whatsoever and he managed to get a knee between my legs.

Oh merlin. I was going to be raped. In the middle of the street for Merlin's sake!

That's when real fear kicked in. Before I had been confident that my status would protect me, but I was being treated no better then a common whore! I struggled then. Really struggled, and bit at the hand pressed against my mouth. The man with the gip on my waist started to paw at my garments, and the other man removed his hand to have a good old grope of his own. I took this opportunity to salvage the situation. No, I did not start screaming bloody murder because the incredibly asinine and superficial side of my nature wanted to keep my dignity intact– as if it was when being pressed up against a wall and used a petting toy. So instead I said in my Slytherin Bitch voice: 'Unhand me you dolts!'

Impressive– I think not.

The one who had previously been using his hand as my gag leaned forward, 'Now that's not a nice name to call someone, is it?' and before I'd registered he'd lifted his hand, he'd delivered two forceful slaps to my face, which caused my head to snap back and my ears to ring.

I groaned, and caught the satisfied smirk that crossed his lips when I did. I let out I feline hiss, wanting to scratch his eyeballs out. Since I didn't have my hands free, I did the next best thing.

I nutted him in the face.

I took great pleasure in the cry that escaped his mouth then, and made another bid for freedom. But then Skanky Breath was there, and with a force much stronger then I expected, he slammed me against the wall.

I felt my head hit it, and was swallowed up by a dizzying darkness.

When I came to, the first thing I saw was a pair of beautiful green eyes, gazing with concern into mine. I could feel a dreamy smile tugging at my lips, though it soon become a frown when none other then Potter's face came into focus, with a banging headache to match.

'What–?' I asked. My head felt like it had been trampled on by a herd of rampant hippogriffs.

'You alright?' came Potter's voice, but far off, like he was standing at the end of a very long corridor. I was suddenly hauled to my feet and the abrupt change in positions made my head spin.

I think my eyes nearly fell out of my head when I realised I was clinging onto Potter for support.

'What're you doing here?' I hissed, moving away from him to lean against the wall.

Potter seemed quite taken aback by this. 'Saving your life,' he finally replied, a tad peevishly. A yes, Potter and his hero-complex.

'Why? I had everything under control,' I said icily. Lords I could tell some big ones.

Potter gaped at me incredulously for a moment, and then snorted. 'Very well under control, with you lying in the gutter.'

I scowled at him, 'I was not Potter and you–' I broke off as I heard a slight tell-tale popping sound. Oh crap.

'What?' Potter demanded.

'Death eaters,' I said shortly.

He stared, 'You what?'

I shook my head, 'No time Potter, you have to leave. Now. Why you came down here in the first place I–'

'If I hadn't come down here you'd be dead by now!' Potter said fiercely, in a voice loud enough to echo off the alley walls.

'Sshh!'

'Don't–' He shut up as I placed the sealing spell on his mouth. I knew it would come in handy.

'Look, there's a small back alley two streets down. There's a door behind the bin, tap your wand on it three times and say 'Hisverna', it'll open into muggle London a few streets away from the Leaky Cauldron, okay?'

He nodded and I removed the spell. 'But why–' he started to ask.

'A life for a life, Potter,' I replied, something heavy settling in my chest. 'And don't ever mention this again.'

He nodded as two more pops echoed in the air around us. 'Now go!' I urged. 'And hurry!'

I watched him disappear, the slytherin bit of my brain informing me that I would most definitely regret this later, I wished I didn't agree. I pulled a face, then looked at the now virtually empty street around me– save for my two attackers. I spotted Skanky Breath and gave him a hefty kick in the crotch, and picked my wand off of the floor. They say a decent man should never kick a man when he's down, but I'm a woman and what's more I'm Slytherin, and I hold grudges. As I reached the main street I caught the icy blue eyes of a masked death eater. I froze. The eyes belonged to my Uncle Lucius. He gazed at me indifferently then slunk back into the shadows of Knockturn Alley. Oh Merlin. Father would hear of this. I shivered.

'Blaise!' Pansy came running towards me. She was pale and shaking, 'Oh lords, there's an attack on Diagon Alley! Blaise! Your head's bleeding! _Blaise!_'

The last thing I saw and heard was the whole street erupting into screams as the sign of the dark mark suddenly appeared in the sky. Then I was smothered in blackness.


	4. Chapter 4

**Stupid Is As Stupid Does**

**Chapter 4**

'Blaise.'

'Blaise.'

'_Blaise._'

Well this is familiar. I opened my eyes and found myself staring into the pale blue of my cousin's. I groaned. '_Draco_, what are you doing here?'

Draco smirked, I find this highly irritating. 'What?' I grumbled. 'Get out of my room, I have a headache! Mother had no right to invite you over without telling me.' I glared at him and reached over to pull my pillow over my head. Wait… No pillow… I grunt. 'And stop nicking my things! Give me my pillow back!'

Draco snorted, and I became painfully aware that the ground under me was moving, vibrating in fact. And that I was not in my nice comfy bed, but trying to sleep in a train carriage, snuggling up to the person next to me who happened to be…. UGH! CRABBE!!!!!

I shot up and whipped across to the other side of the carriage, glowering at my cousin's crony. Draco started laughing his head off and Crabbe, well Crabbe just guffawed, you know like those idiots who go: 'Uhhurrhrrahuurrrr' Eck!! And I was attempting to use him as a soft toy!! Arrrggghh! And no I do NOT snuggle up with soft toys. Ever.

Ever.

Yeuch.

Ugh… shudder…

What can I do? Oh what can I do?? I glanced around the carriage, whew only me, Crabbe and Draco in here, hoo Happy Days! I whisked my wand out from up my sleeve, aimed at Crabbe and said; 'Obliviate.' Crabbe stared gormless ahead, his fat face pulled into a stupid grin. 'Stupefy,' I muttered, and he fell off the seat onto the floor.

Now you may wonder just why Crabbe and Goyle are so utterly thick. It's the unknown personal hazard they take in following my cousin round like a pair of lost sheep. They've been obliviated so many times now, that they're a bit slow on the uptake. Did I say a bit? I meant _very_ slow. Very slow indeed. If you strapped one of their hands so a lit torch it would take a couple of minutes for them to realise their hand is on fire. This is true because I actually did this in fourth year, I obliviated them afterwards of course. It's become a game between Draco and I now, who can make them do the most outrageous things purely by instructing them to. Draco wins of course, but that's because they're glued to his hip and if he told them to go walk into the sharp end of a stick they most probably would. Right pair of zombies. Shudder.

You may also wonder how a girl of my age, let alone a fourteen year old, could accomplish such an advanced form of magic. All I can say is that my family has a knack for it, and Draco has a twitchy death eater of a father. Dear old Lucius would drill Draco with rigorous training in magic during Hogwarts holidays, that's the only reason Draco gets his high grades, he's a pretty face, but not nearly as intelligent as Granger and, if I don't say so myself, as quick on the uptake as me.

Draco grinned at me, 'That was quick.'

I raised an eyebrow, 'Well yes, I'm not letting _that_ get out. It would totally spoil my reputation.' I looked down at my nails and buffed them against my robe.

Another one of the games we play is what we call 'showing no fear', and as Slytherins, irrevocably prepares us for later on in life. No successful Slytherin gets by, by wearing their hearts on their sleeves. It just isn't done.

Father won't let me fall second to a Malfoy either, though allies, the Zabinis and Malfoys have always strained neck and neck with each other to come out on top. Lucius nearly always wins, Father isn't prepared to go the whole distance with these things, therefore, no twitchy death eater father for me, and no blood staining the Zabini sense of honour. Pfft– so he says.

Draco sniffed, 'Reputation? What– as a closet Crabbe fan?'

I almost urged at that. Well you would, Crabbe is as ugly as sin. More like he ran into the back end of the knight bus when he was a kid… ugh…

I sat back down; Draco plonked himself next to me. 'How's your head?' he asked finally.

I winced and felt tentatively at the back of my head. I had told my parents that I had been hit by a piece of falling rubble as the Death Eaters attacked Diagon Alley. Mother swallowed that up easily, though Father was a tad more suspicious…

* * *

'You must have been fairly close to the Olivander shop to get hit on the head by rubble.' My father had stated as he gazed at me from his writing desk.

'Oh yes,' I agreed readily. 'Very close, you see I was–'

'Only Miss Parkinson says that you came from the opposite direction, near Knockturn Alley, in fact.'

Damn.

'Er…'

'Blaise, I don't really care if you don't tell me what you were doing, but I can rest assured that it will never happen again?'

I nodded furiously. Quick. Leave. Get out.

'Good, I don't ever want to have to hear from _family members _(the way he stressed this made me think of Uncle Lucius) that my daughter has been running around Knockturn Alley unescorted.'

I swallowed, and nodded again.

'What's that Blaise?'

'Yes, Father.'

'Very well then, you may leave. Oh, and Blaise?' I turned around, my hand on the doorknob. 'Learn some decent healing spells next time.'

* * *

'It's okay now Draco,' I replied. 'Just a bit of a headache, Mother said I must get it checked out with Madam Pomfrey, she doesn't want me fainting again.' I pulled a face. '_How_ humiliating.' Yes spare me _that_ injustice! I'll be turning into Potter next.

Why do I keep referring to him?

'In front of Pansy, too,' Draco remarked with a slight grin.

I blinked, thinking I'd spoken aloud then picking up where I'd drifted off, I poked my tongue out at him. 'Oh, shut up, Mr High and Mighty, at least she's not clinging to my arm, every spare moment. She's like a bloody leech.'

There was loud commotion outside the carriage door, through which we could here clearly: 'Oooh, my poor old Drakie! I wonder where he's gone!' And a loud giggling. Eck.

Draco grimaced, 'Hide me?' he pleaded.

'No can do Drakie darling! Not after that horrid trick.' I looked down in disgust at Crabbe on the floor.

The door slid open and in marched Pansy with a gaggle of future Slytherin airheads. I stood up, 'Let me know if you see Millie, will you?' I asked Draco as I left.

The door slid shut behind me and the giggling started, I distinctly heard the words, 'Prefect duties' from Draco, but it was smothered out by the loud tittering and cooing. My head throbbed painfully, and I moved quickly away from the door. Those shrill voices would not do any good for my headache.

The only nearest empty compartment I could find– that was not down Gryffindor territory (woe betide any lone Slytherin who walks down there) contained Loony Lovegood. I groaned, I did _not_ want to be seen with her. However, my legs had other ideas, the throbbing in my head had turned into an agonizing drumming and I had to sit down before I passed out.

Well, at least she wasn't a Hufflepuff.

Ew.

Horrid Hufflepuffs.

Loony smiled at me, she had her hair held into place by a long quill. She is one weird girl. 'Hullo,' she said.

'Er, hi,' I replied. I turned to look out the window as if there was something out there I found extremely interesting.

Nope. Just cows and grass.

'What are you looking at?' Loony asked.

'Erm…'

'Have you seen a Crumpled-Horn Snorkack?'

I looked back at her. Oh Merlin. She wasn't joking.

'Erm…'

'My name's Luna,' she continued dreamily. 'You're that Slytherin girl, aren't you?'

I looked down at my Hogwarts robes, the Slytherin crest stared up at me. 'What Slytherin girl?'

'The one who got attacked by death eaters.'

I am going to _KILL_ Pansy!!

'I wasn't attacked by death eaters.'

Loony looked at me with half closed eyes. 'It's alright you know, you don't have to pretend any more.'

I stare blankly at her. _What had this girl been eating?_

'Pretend what?'

Loony opened her eyes fully then, kind of scary when she does that, they protrude a bit. 'That you're Stubby Boardman's only daughter.'

Oh my God.

_Who?_

'I'm going to sleep,' I announced, rather flatly. Under normal conditions, a Slytherin _never _sleeps around strangers. You never know when you might be attacked. However, I'd had enough– well my brain had anyway. During mine and Loony's utterly pointless not to mention random discussion, I had been receiving certain warning signals that I was going to pass out. First my legs felt like they'd been hit with a Jelly-leg jinx, then my mouth went dry and my head began to spin.

Loony had looked like she was about to say something, although I couldn't have cared less. We had another 3 hours or so before we reached Hogwarts and I'd be damned if I was going to spend that time having a friendly chitchat with Loony Love good.

So there.

* * *

_**Harry**_

The whistle blew and the train began move, its carriages adopting the gentle swaying motion Harry was accustomed to. Harry was seated alone at the moment. Ron and Hermione had left as soon as they boarded the train to attend to 'prefect duties' and Ginny had gone to find her new boyfriend, a 5th year Hufflepuff.

To be honest, Harry felt rather relieved to be alone for once, the weekend hadn't gone entirely smoothly.

Harry picked at the frayed cuff of his shirt as he considered this; Dumbledore had been angry two days ago. Not the irritable sort of angry, but a towering incandescent rage that Harry had only seen once, in the Department of Mysteries. He had arrived just after Harry had returned from his short-lived rebellion in Knockturn Alley. Harry had taken the exit behind the bin as Zabini had instructed him to and had found himself in a narrow alley; he'd turned around to close the exit but faced a solid brick wall instead. The muggle street it led onto wasn't far from the store next to the leaky Cauldron, and Harry was able to direct himself to its dim entrance. He had been greeted by a tearful Mrs Weasley who had upon seeing him wrapped him in her stifling embrace…

* * *

'Oh _Harry_! We were so _worried_ about you! Where on earth did you get to? Tonks couldn't find you anywhere and then we heard about the attacks outside! And I thought– oh _lords_, you were out there alone! You–'

'Alright Molly, I don't think Harry's going anywhere for now,' A familiar voice interrupted. Mrs Weasley moved away to reveal Remus Lupin, the last of the marauders. Lupin looked as if he'd aged considerably since Sirius's death, the dark rings under his eyes had become more pronounced as had the white in his hair, of which had only be a sparse speckling before.

'Anywhere indeed,' another voice growled, and Moody stumped forward, but Harry couldn't tell if he was glowering like that at him because of his disappearance, or if Moody's face just looked like that.

Harry had glanced around, spotting his friends stood at the back to one side. Hermione had hid her face in her hands when he looked at her and Ginny had craned her head over the rest of the Order now crowding round him to give him a questioning look. The back door crashed open, and Mrs Weasley screamed, her voice adding to the tumult outside that was heard through the open door. But Harry hadn't listened to the screams. His eyes had caught the furious flashing glare of Albus Dumbledore and not for the first time Harry understood why Voldemort feared him.

'Everyone leave,' Dumbledore ordered, his blue eyes fixed on Harry, pinning him where he stood.

The room quickly emptied, save for Alastor Moody who remained, regarding Dumbledore with a mixture of suspicion and awe. Dumbledore turned his gaze upon the ex-Auror.

'How do I know you're the real Dumbledore?' Moody demanded, his electric blue eye matching Dumbledore's eyes stare for stare.

Dumbledore almost sighed then, though Harry had privately thought that he wouldn't have looked so intimidating if he had. 'Alastor, surely if you cannot recognise me as I am now, then you won't ever. You may stay if you wish.'

Moody grunted, 'Can never be too careful, Albus.' He pulled up a chair anyway, adopting a posture of mild interest.

Harry glared at him.

'Harry,' Dumbledore said in a deceptively calm voice, but Harry knew his eyes would be blazing.

Harry turned his attention to the floor. It was dirty.

'Harry, look at me.'

Nope, the floor was more interesting; it had a particularly interesting looking knot in one of the floorboards.

Dumbledore did sigh then, and Harry looked up in spite of himself.

'Harry, do you know what happened today?' Dumbledore asked, his voice impossibly sad. Harry's hand twitched in annoyance.

'A death eater attack.'

'Yes, but do you know _who_ was attacked?'

'No, sir.'

Dumbledore sighed again, 'Harry, the Dark Mark was conjured over Mr Olivander's shop. He was found dead, it's lucky that he had no customers within the shop at the time…'

Harry had frozen at the name 'Olivander', and he remembered the day he purchased his wand from the musty shop, Mr Olivander's shaky walk and staring eyes, he shuddered inwardly.

Dumbledore continued. 'We believe Mr Olivander might have known something, something of grave importance.' Another sigh. 'However we shall never know now, we can just hope he took that secret with him into death, and that Voldemort's followers didn't extract it from him.'

Moody chose to interrupt at that point, 'Albus, I don't see why Potter needs to know this. We should be concentrating on finding out where _he _was.'

'Alastor, he needs to know, but I agree with you, it is important to find out where young Harry was hiding.'

Harry despised being talked about like a little kid, and right in front of his face. 'When you've finished discussing me,' he had said loudly, no longer caring if this wasn't a respectful way to talk to his elders.

Moody looked sharply at him, 'Young man, when I was your age we treated people older than ourselves with due respect–'

'Well it isn't due here, is it?' Harry argued. 'You all sit here and talk about what's happened– that's all you do, talk! I was left with the bloody Dursley's for the whole summer when–'

Moody glowered at him, 'You stayed where you were protected. You didn't have to remain with the muggles, you could have come to Grimmauld place!'

'I HATE GRIMMAULD PLACE! IT'S NO BETTER THAN A PRISON IN THERE! YOU KEPT SIRIUS LOCKED UP THERE! YOU–'

'Harry please,' Dumbledore tried to interject.

'This is what it's all about, isn't it?' Moody snarled. 'Black is dead Potter, he died in combat, now if that's not the best way to go then tell me–'

'SHUTUP! YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING! JUST BECAUSE YOU–'

'I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING?' Moody had stood up and was quivering with repressed rage. 'You listen to me young man! You want to be an Auror right? You want to fight in the war? Well people die in wars and by God; if you can't get over that then I have no idea how you are going to defeat Voldemort.'

'GET OVER IT! HE HASN'T BEEN GONE TWO MONTHS AND YOU SAY GET OVER IT– !'

'Black is dead– !'

'I KNOW HE'S DEAD! STOP TELLING ME!' Harry had screamed back at Moody.

'Stop this both of you!' Dumbledore ordered.

Harry ignored him. 'He's the only who actually gave a damn about how I felt! You all sit there and tell me to stay put! How would feel if you had to stay in the same place all the time! You care more about winning the war than the people in it! If a person dies, he's dead! Not your fault, that's _war_ you get on with it! Doesn't matter if he's got a family at home that won't be able to support themselves without him! That's _their_ problem, you have to win the _war_!'

'Harry please–' Dumbledore tried again.

'YOU PEOPLE MAKE ME SICK– !'

'Sick, eh?' Moody growled. 'I'll tell you what's sick, Potter. There's a wizard on the loose who is going around torturing and murdering muggles and wizards alike, that's sick! And the only person who can stop him is a dysfunctional teenager who can't drag himself out of self-pity to save them!'

The room went quiet. Harry stared at Moody, 'How do you know that?' he said in a voice that was barely a whisper.

Moody shifted forward slightly, 'What? Speak up boy!'

Harry looked at Dumbledore, 'How could he know that?'

Dumbledore had not replied, his face admitted to it, but held no trace of guilt. Harry felt a surge of anger towards him, which strengthened the small shoots of dislike he had towards the headmaster, who seemed quite prepared to discuss Harry's own personal business if it constituted to 'the greater good'. What happened to student/teacher confidentiality?

Harry stood up, 'Harry,' Dumbledore said in a cautionary tone, his eyes steely bright in the gloom.

'Harry,' Dumbledore said again, gently. 'Harry, listen to me. What Alastor is trying to say–'

'I know what he's trying to say,' Harry muttered. 'He wants me to put Sirius behind me and focus on training myself for Voldemort.'

Moody nodded to himself in surprise, as if thinking that Harry had been too thick-headed to realise. Dumbledore glanced over at him, then turned back to Harry. 'That's not exactly what he means, Harry.'

'No,' Harry said more loudly. 'He also knows about the prophecy, something that should have been kept between he two of us. Maybe I shouldn't have even told you, I suppose the Order had a right old flap over that, gave them something to really worry about, did it? Is that why I'm tailed by a group of people who– might I add–' he said glaring at Moody, '–are all, perhaps evenmore _dysfunctional_ than myself?'

From the corner of his eye Harry had noticed Moody's head jerk up as if to protest. Dumbledore continued smoothly. 'What he means is that you haven't got time to mourn. I'm afraid that is a luxury that will have to wait until this war is over. It is important that you concentrate on your Occlumency–'

'Not with Snape!' Harry said at once.

Dumbledore shook his head. 'No, with me. We discuss this at the end of term, what matters though that you perfect it and keep out of trouble. You are needed alive, or else this whole war is for nothing.'

'I'm not sure I want you digging around in my head,' Harry said viciously. 'Who knows what else you might decide to spill?'

Moody made a noise of distaste, 'Potter, Albus Dumbledore is the most proficient teacher in Occlumency you're ever going to get, aside from Snape. There's no question of picking and choosing, you have no choice. You must be trained and that's all there is to it.'

Harry's mouth had curled in response, 'How can I let someone access my mind, when I don't trust them.' No I don't trust you Dumbledore, he added in his head, staring at the old wizard, not anymore.

'You coped with Snape last year,' Moody pointed out. 'As for physical training, I shall be undertaking that myself, though according to Albus, your new defence teacher is quite capable.' He sniffed as though he didn't believe it.

'There doesn't need to be a war,' Harry said bitterly. 'I can fight him myself, it would save a lot of people–'

'The war is necessary, young man.' Moody had started speaking again. 'It'll provide a diversion for you to get to Voldemort too, in the mean time we must prepare, and as Albus said, keep you out of trouble. _Which isn't going to work with you running away from your protectors_!'

Harry scowled. 'I'm fed up with them following me around. I can protect myself, if you haven't noticed, I don't need you. Where were you last year when the dementors attacked Dudley and I? Where were you at the tri-wizard tournament?'

Moody looked ready to strangle him. 'You have people protecting you, ready to give their _lives_ for you and you don't want them following you around? If you die that's it. If you gave one damn about the wizarding community you'd realise that wandering around unescorted could get you killed, and you'd have all those people's lives on your head. Now stop behaving like a selfish idiot and let us know where you were!'

'I am _not_ an idiot, Moody.'

'_Harry._'

Harry had had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. 'Knockturn Alley.'

* * *

On the train, Harry smiled grimly to himself. Moody had been nothing short of apoplectic and he had been forced to go everywhere– even the toilet!– with a guard, though it retrospect, he thought it was worth it. At any rate, the death eaters wouldn't have expected him to be there and that probably saved his life.

The door slid open again, and Ginny popped her head in. 'Hey, loner,' she said with a grin. 'You've been sat here all this time? I couldn't find Shaine anywhere, silly sod didn't tell me he'd been made prefect. Have you heard whose captain yet?'

Harry quirked a smile, 'Nah, Katie I suppose.'

'I'm surprised they didn't pick you this year,' Ginny said. 'You're by far the best we've got. Who are you thinking of putting on the team this year? I want to try out for beater, there's a second year, Martin Sterling, he'd make a good beater too.'

Harry nodded, thinking Dumbledore had likely assumed he had _far_ too much on his plate, right now.

Ginny looked at her watch, 'Ah, the prefect meeting should be finishing around now.'

Harry suddenly found he did not want to be in the same room with Hermione and Ron, not for the present anyway. 'That's great,' he muttered in reply, and slipped past Ginny into the corridor, shoving the badge deep into his pocket. As he walked down the train carriage a lone Cho Chang appeared. She spotted Harry and looked away embarrassed. He was just passing her when her hand grabbed his arm.

Harry looked down at her.

'Um, Harry. I'm sorry about what happened last year; it was really stupid of me.'

Harry fidgeted. 'That's alright.'

'Will we be doing DA this year?'

Harry blinked in surprise, he hadn't really thought of it. 'Er, I dunno. Maybe we won't need to this year.'

Cho nodded. 'Well, I'll see you, Harry.' She smiled and moved on down the carriage.

Harry stared after her, then caught a large amount of bushy brown hair starting to emerge from one of the compartments further up. He instinctively dived into the nearest compartment, quickly sliding the door with a snap behind him.

'Hi, Harry,' said a voice behind him. The dream like quality to it sounded familiar.

Harry turned around. 'Luna!' he said with a smile.

Luna frowned at him. 'I should be quiet you know, you don't want to wake _her_.' She jerked her head at someone behind him.

He looked around and groaned.

Curled up on the seat with her arms pulled into her chest, lay none other than Blaise Zabini. She was frowning slightly in her sleep, her black hair puffing out slightly as she breathed. Harry watched it absently for a moment, then realised he was staring and looked away seating himself next to Luna.

'She's strange that one,' Luna said to Harry. Harry gave her a weird look; it was rather ironic for someone like Luna to call a person strange.

'Oh? Why's that?'

Luna sighed and folded her hands in her lap. 'She seems to think that she's Slytherin.'

Harry stared. 'Um, Luna, that might be because she is.'

Luna shook her head, 'She's not. She's Stubby Boardman's long lost daughter, only she won't admit to it.' She turned her blue eyes onto Harry's. 'He was your god father, wasn't he?' She said sympathetically. 'Oh poor old Stubby Boardman.'

'What the hell is all the Stubby Boardman thing?' Said a grouchy voice from across the compartment. Zabini had woken up, though not properly. Her hair was hanging across her face and she was attempting to stifle a most unlady-like yawn. Her eyes popped open and caught Harry. 'Potter?' she said in disbelief. She shook her hair from her face and folded her arms. 'What are _you_ doing here?'

'He's allowed to sit here,' Luna spoke up. 'I say so.'

Zabini wrinkled her nose. 'Great. I'm stuck in a compartment with Wonder boy and Loony Lovegood,' Harry heard her grumble.

Harry scowled, 'If you have a problem you can move, you know.'

She glared at him. 'I see no reason for that Potter, as I _was_ here first.'

Harry leaned back. 'Well I'm not moving.'

She continued to glare. 'You know,' Harry said, turning to face Luna. 'I've heard that if the wind blows when a person looks like that, their face will stay that way.'

Zabini sneered, 'Muggle nonsense.' But she did stop scowling at him.

The door slid open, and a hefty Slytherin girl appeared. 'Blaise,' she said gruffly, though there was a note of surprise in her voice.

'Millie,' Zabini greeted the girl with a nod. Noticing the girl (Harry guessed she was Millicent Bulstrode) look at Harry, Zabini said, 'I can explain everything.'

Bulstrode raised an eyebrow. 'I'm sure you can, Draco wants you.'

Zabini nodded and rose gracefully, exiting the carriage without at backward glance at Harry.

Harry scowled at her leave, and wished God didn't cause him to continually bump into her. It was like a bad smell that followed him around.

He looked at his watch. Half an hour until the train reached Hogwarts. He bade Luna goodbye and went to change into his school robes.


	5. Chapter 5

Stupid Is As Stupid Does

Chapter 5 

_**Blaise**_

I'd woken up to Loony and some other person (moronic enough to actually come into the carriage with Loony) talking to each other. The voice was a male's, low and in a monotone, but it was Loony's dreamy one that broke my nap.

'…Poor old Stubby Boardman.'

'What the hell is all the Stubby Boardman thing?' I snapped, trying to disentangle myself from my hair which had tried to strangle me in my sleep. I was annoyed with how Loony was still gabbling about that nonsense, sure she can _think_ it all she wants, but when she starts to _tell_ people… Then again, I did think that no one would actually _want_ to talk to her. Yet another stupid mistake. Go me.

I yawned widely, then realised that I probably resembled a hippo, and tried to close my mouth. It wasn't working. My eyes flickered open, and behind my curtain of hair I saw a familiar set of green ones staring back at me.

I shut my mouth so fast I was in peril of biting my tongue off. 'Potter?' I tried to say, but nearly choked on the hair that went in my mouth as I said this. I flipped it over my shoulder and folded my arms, attempting to look menacing. ''What are _you_ doing here?' I demanded.

Just then Loony decided to talk, 'He's allowed to sit here. I say so.' Hoo, she sounded determined.

I pulled a face, 'Great. I'm stuck in a compartment with Wonder boy and Loony Lovegood,' I muttered under my breath.

Potter scowled at me, 'If you have a problem you can move, you know.' Damn, he must have heard.

I lent back in my seat, tilted my chin up and dealt him a true Zabini glare. Potter ignored me– ignored me! And looked at Looney, 'You know,' he said in a falsely conversation tone. (Fake, it seems he's only really capable of the same tone of voice. Miserable git.) 'I've heard that if the wind blows when a person looks like that, their face will stay that way.'

I wondered if that was true, I was sure it had happened to someone before... who was it? Draco! Yet that might have been because Nikolas hexed him. (mwahaha) In reply I sneered at him, 'Muggle nonsense,' but I found I'd stopped glowering at him.

The door slid open then, and Millie stepped in. 'Blaise,' she said in surprise. She had grown thankfully no taller over the summer, but she had finally started developing those hips she had been hoping for, to cut down on her resemblance to the opposite sex. I just think she's being vain. 'Millie,' I said with a nod.

Millie was looking at the compartment's other habitants. Her eyebrow shot up.

'I can explain everything,' I quickly informed her.

'I'm sure you can,' was her bemused reply. 'Draco wants you.'

I nodded and swept out of the carriage, though I felt like Potter was boring a hole into my back with his eyes.

'Where's Draco?' I asked, as soon as we were back into the corridor.

'Who cares,' Millie said. 'I was looking for you.' Though her voice betrayed nothing, I could tell she was slightly upset at the fact I hadn't come to find her in the four hours or so we'd been on the train.

'I'm sorry, Mills. I had a–' I broke off as some hufflepuffs passed us. 'I'll tell you in a minute.'

Millie said nothing. We reached the end of the train where a couple of first years were seated playing exploding snap. 'Out!' she commanded, scaring them both witless. One started packing feverishly away and made his way from the compartment. The other, a small dark haired boy stood his ground. 'Why should we? You don't _own_ the train!' I groaned inwardly, another future Gryffindor it seemed.

Millie didn't seem to mind. She casually pulled out her wand, 'No, but I do know a lot more magic then you do. I suggest you move on,' she leaned against the doorway and stared hard at him, giving the impression that she was not above jinxing kids. Well, she's not.

The boy gulped and moved on, and when he was a safe distance away we heard him shout something rude back at us. Millie fired a leg locker curse at him, he dived out of the way and ran off.

'Nasty little buggar,' my best friend said, flicking dust from her robes.

'Yeah,' I murmured. 'Look Millie, did you hear about that attack on Diagon Alley?'

Millie cocked her head it me, 'Heard? It's _all_ I've been hearing, it's all over the news.'

'Yeah, well…' I told her all about my adventure in Diagon Alley. I left out the bit about falling into Potter when I came out of the floo network, but Millie wouldn't have been interested with that. '…I've told everyone else a brick dropped on my head. Even Draco. You have to keep to that story,' I told her seriously.

Millie nodded, things were serious if I didn't tell Draco. 'Imagine, Potter coming to your rescue, oh I feel for you Blaise. Though, anyone who knows you would know you'd never let a brick fall on your head,' she laughed mockingly. 'How undignified!'

'Shut up, Millie,' I grumbled good naturedly, I am a _tad_ on the proud side.

'Are you okay?' she asked.

'Sort of,' I said. 'But I really needed to lie down my head was that bad. And I had a nasty surprise every time I woke up.' I told her about Crabbe.

Millie howled with laughter. I glared at her, my head throbbing. 'Ow! Don't laugh so loud, it still hurts!'

'Baby,' she commented and smiled.

I rolled my eyes, 'I have to go to Madame Pomfrey to get it checked out though. Save me a seat in the Hall, will you?'

'Course,' was the reply.

I grinned.

* * *

Making your way alone down to the Hospital Wing after dark is not the most enjoyable thing in the world. Especially when the whole school is down in the Great Hall stuffing their faces. My stomach twinged, I was napping when the trolley witch had made her way down the train and was now starving. I hoped Madame Pomfrey wouldn't be too long with my head.

As I made my way down one of the corridors leading to the wing, my mind began to play tricks on me. I swore I could hear the slight pattering of footsteps, or now and then, the swish of a cloak. Even shallow breathing.

Goose bumps appeared along my arms and my skin began to feel clammy. I turned around sharply.

Nothing.

The corridor was empty.

I shook my head and turned back round.

And jumped about a foot in the air when a clutching hand grabbed my arm.

At first I had the horrible feeling of deja-vu and I was back in Knockturn Alley, with Skanky Breath and his associate. However, a pallid, hollow looking face loomed out of the darkness. Two black holes served as eyes and lank black hair was slicked against its head. It opened its red red mouth and a sickly sweet smell wafted over me, with an underlying acrid scent, that was strangely metallic and reminded me of… blood.

I screamed.

At once the spectre stepped backward, and a throaty voice floated out of the darkness. 'Shut up you foolish girl!'

I closed my mouth at once.

There was a brief silence, at which I gaped stupidly into the black.

'Close your mouth, you look like a fish, and I'm over here, that's the wall you're gawping at,' the voice snapped.

I scowled. 'I can't see you lady! You have no business creeping round in the dark like that! You old rat bag! Are you listening? You nearly scared me half to death!'

'You can't see me, eh?' there was a rustling of robes. 'Lumos.'

Light flared for a moment, I blinked, and saw a tall thin woman standing before me. She had an ethereal beauty about her, her ghostly white face held a pair of impossibly dark eyes that immediately captivated the viewer. Her lips were stained scarlet, like a young child's who had been playing with her mother's lipstick, and both her eyes and mouth stood out in dark contrast to her white face. Her gaze was more than a little unnerving.

'You know,' she said softly in her scratchy voice. 'I could ask you the same thing. What is a student wandering alone down here when they should be at the Sorting?'

I scowled again. 'I have to see the nurse.'

'Don't look at me like that girl!' she barked.

I blinked in surprise. I was starting to get freaked. What was patient from St Mungo's doing in Hogwarts?

The woman stared at me a while longer. 'Get away with you then,' she said finally. 'Madam Pomfrey is free at the moment.' She sniggered as if she found this highly amusing, and swept away.

I shuddered.

When I found Madam Pomfrey, she was indeed free. As if she would have any patients on the first day. I sniffed.

'You got a cold dear?' Madam Pomfrey enquired after checking my head. 'I have a fresh brew of pepper-up potion if–'

'Noo! I'm fine. Must go. Late for the Sorting!' I dashed out of the hospital wing. Having already been made subject to one of Pomfrey's infamous pepper-up potions when I was in first year, I had vowed never to touch the stuff again. I'd rather suffer in silence.

I hurried on to the Great Hall, the door had been left a jar and warm golden light streamed out through it. Judging by the clattering and loud amount of talking coming from inside, I guessed we had already started eating.

I straightened my robes and brushed my hair neatly from my face, and prepared myself for my big entrance. In truth, I hoped I could slip in through the door and arrive unnoticed at my table.

No such luck.

The gap in the door was too small for me to squeeze through so I had to open it–

CRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!–

The chatter stopped and a sea of heads turned to face me. I stood stupidly by the door.

Dumbledore, the old geezer smiled at me and said in his patronising tone: 'Oh, there you are Miss Zabini. Would you be as so kind as to close the door? Only there is a draught coming through…'

I restrained myself from glaring at him. The git! As if he could feel it being right up the other end of the hall. The school was still staring at me. Nosey bats!

I composed my face, showing no emotion – and no blushes thank Merlin!- I took the handle and shoved against the door.

The bang of its closing echoed throughout the hall and a few people jumped. I was not going to close it quietly for him! Chatter started to pick up as I made my way to my seat, but by then I was too angry to eat. I slid into my seat Millie had kindly reserved for me and began to stab at my food, glowering at the high table.

'Something wrong?' Draco asked mildly.

'Shut up,' I ordered him coldly.

'Do you intend to eat that, or just mutilate it?'

I turned my gaze onto my cousin and he quickly continued to eat.

Millie looked up at the high table. 'I wonder who is doing defence this year, I don't see anyone new…'

'Maybe it's Snape,' Draco volunteered.

I ignored them, but I turned my scowl from the headmaster to the teachers on the table themselves. There were no new faces on the table.

And I couldn't help but wonder… wonder if I'd already had a run in with our new teacher…

* * *

_**Harry**_

'Hey Harry!'

Harry had just clambered out of a Hogwarts coach with Luna when Neville caught up with them, he was looking a good deal happier then Harry was used to seeing him at the start of a school term– less worried, that is, and somehow less chubbier than before.

Harry smiled at him, 'Hey, Neville, had a good summer?'

Neville grinned, 'Yeah, Nan didn't even mind that my dad's wand got broke, she was right proud of me. Got me a new one as soon as I came home, look!' He pulled a wand from his pocket, 11 inches dragon heart string, that one is, tad different from my old one but just as good.'

Luna abruptly turned and beamed at him. Neville blinked at her for a moment, before an uncertain smile flickered across his face in reply. Luna looked as though she was about to tell him something when Harry spotted a group of wizards in blue cloaks up ahead. 'Look!' he said, pointing.

A member of the group turned around, and Harry caught the sombre face of Kingsley Shacklebolt, 'Aurors,' he breathed.

'I wonder what they're doing here,' Neville said, craning his head for a better look.

Luna's smile vanished. 'I think that would be rather obvious,' she stated rather disdainfully.

Neville stared at her.

'They obviously are on the look out for Stu–'

Harry cut across her before she could spout any more nonsense, 'Luna's right, Neville, they're here because Voldemort–' Neville flinched '–has returned, they want us safely in school.'

Luna nodded as if she knew all this, though the slight frown on her face and the way her lower lip stuck out, suggested that she wasn't at all happy about Harry butting in, even though his assumptions were far more likely to be correct than hers.

When they had filed into the Great Hall, Harry noticed Ginny's red hair sat near the Creevy brothers. He swiftly made his was towards them, plonking himself down next to Ginny, with Neville on his other side. Ginny smiled at him, and Colin and his brother both greeted him with a 'Heya Harry!' at the same time. Thankfully, Colin did not carry his camera.

'Where's Ron and Hermione?' Neville asked.

Harry pretended he hadn't heard, and began to toy with his napkin. Ginny rolled her eyes, 'They won't be sitting with us today, Neville.'

'Why?'

Ginny glanced at Harry, who in reply, glared at her, daring her to speak. She scowled at him, 'Because they are not speaking, Neville.'

'Oh,' Neville looked at his hands.

Harry glowered at Ginny, who smiled sweetly in return, then began talking to Colin about his summer.

'Oy, Neville, budge up there.' Harry looked up to see Ron poking Neville in the back.

Harry turned his back on him.

'_Ron_,' he heard Hermione admonish him. 'Sorry, Neville. What he meant was could you please move along a bit so we could sit with Harry. Please?'

'Uh, okay then.'

Harry cursed Neville under his breath, if he wasn't such a push over…

'Harry,' Ron said softly. It was a good job that he had decided to sit next to Harry, if _Hermione_ had, well…

Harry ignored him, and Ginny turned around to look at her brother. 'Hi Ron,' she said pleasantly.

'Oh, er, hey Ginny,' her brother replied. '_Harry_.'

Ginny frowned at Harry, 'Are you just going to ignore him? That's ignorant.'

Harry snorted.

The doors to great hall opened and the first years, led by Professor McGonagall filed into the hall.

Unfortunately, Harry was unable to enjoy this years sorting, because he had Ron muttering in his ear the whole duration and it was only until the first applause when, Stacey Martina was made a Gryffindor that he was able to tell him to shut up. Ron obviously thought this an improvement from not speaking to him, and had grinned like an idiot. Then the food appeared and he began to gorge.

From the corner of his eye, Harry could see Hermione eyeing Ron with distaste, though he chose to focus on the belief that Hermione didn't exist at the moment, and looked towards the staff table for the new Defence teacher. There was no one there. He scanned the table, seeking for some new face, but none were to be found.

Beside him Ron glanced up too, seeing no new faces he groaned. 'Oh no, I bet we're gonna have Snape this year, look how smug the git looks.' He scowled at the table.

Harry had to agree with him, Snape was looking just a little too happy for his liking. He fervently hoped Snape had not gotten the post again.

Suddenly the door opened, with a drawn out creak. The hall fell silent and turned towards the door, Harry half expected the new defence teacher to enter, like the year when Moody came, however, instead, came a slight pretty faced girl with black hair. It took a while for Harry to register the girl as Zabini.

'Oh, there you are Miss Zabini. Would you be as so kind as to close the door? Only there is a draught coming through…' Dumbledore called over to her from the far end of the wall.

Zabini's face was a mask. She turned and shoved against the door, which closed with a hard bang, Ron, who had turned back to his potatoes by then jumped, nearly choking on his fork.

Harry's eyes followed Zabini as she made her way to her seat, although her face was emotionless, her figure was tense with anger and the way she stabbed at her food only emphasized this.

'Harry,' Ginny murmured beside him. She nudged him. 'Harry, you're staring.'

Harry blinked, and broke his gaze away from Zabini, who was now studying the high table, back to Ginny. Ginny had a smile tugging at her lips. Harry growled at her and spent the rest of the meal looking at his food.

* * *

'First years! Follow me please!' Hermione's voice carried across the entrance hall to the newly made gryffindors. Ron, however had shirked his prefect duties, and had stuck to Harry's side like glue since dinner had ended.

Harry, for his part, had ignored him.

When they had reached the Gryffindor common room, Ron grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him aside. 'Look mate, can I speak to you for a minute?'

Harry scowled at him, 'Wouldn't you rather do that with Hermione behind my back again?' he asked spitefully.

Ron grimaced, 'No, Harry, don't be stupid. She's just worried about you, we both are.'

Hermione by that time had sent the first years to their dormitories and had cautiously approached to where Harry and Ron stood. 'Harry, please–'

Harry rounded on her, 'You! I can't believe you said that! You of all people! _You're_ the one whose always going on about how we should respect people, I guess that doesn't include dead innocent convicts!'

'Harry, you're making a scene,' Hermione said under her breath.

Harry glowered at her, 'I don't bloody care if I'm making a scene!' He spat, turning around the room to glare at the remaining gryffindors in the room, who stared back with apprehension. 'He looked out for us, he did! Remember in third year! _Remember_!'

'Harry–' Hermione tried again, her voice quivering.

'DON'T BLOODY HARRY ME! YOU'RE A BLOODY HYPROCRITE! YOU–'

At that point Hermione burst into tears and ran from the room, Ginny rushed out after her. Ron scowled, 'Harry, you don't have to bite her head off! She only cares about you, you think you're to blame but you're not, but you're too busy wallowing in self pity to realise it!' Ron's face had a very ugly look on it as he turned and stormed out of the common room.

'Don't you bloody walk away from me!' Harry hollered after him.

Harry was left, feeling incredibly angry, his stomach had tied itself into a knot and he was overwhelmed with the usrge to hit something, preferably Ron's face. Neville came timidly up to him, 'You alright Harry?'

Harry barked a laugh, 'Yeah,' he muttered. 'I reckon that was Ron's most eloquent speech to this date.' He scowled and looked up at the still silent common room. 'What are you looking at?' he demanded.

The room became very quickly emptied. Harry sighed and sank into a chair, his head in his hands. 'Idiots,' he mumbled to himself. 'Fuck!' He clenched his fist, as the wanting to lash out grew stronger. His arms started to shake and he clenched his fists tighter, letting out a shaky breath he leant back into the chair, closing his eyes. The scar on his head twinged slightly. 'Yeah, you shut up too,' he told it absently, rubbing at his forehead.

'Harry?' said a soft voice.

Harry opened his eyes and saw Hermione stood by the chair next to him, her eyes were red but she had the steely look she always seemed to develop when she was utterly determined about something, therefore she usually wore it when talking about SPEW. 'Harry, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for talking like that about Sirius, and if you want to hate me for it then you can, but I won't go away, you're my best friend and I don't want to throw 5 years down the drain just because of some stupid words I said.' Her lower lip trembled.

Harry stared at her, unmoved by her open apology, disgust rippling through his body. 'Why would I hate _you_?' He asked, his voice faint with incredulity. 'Why waste so much emotion on _you_ Hermione Granger? You aren't worth the bloody time.'

Hermione let out a small hiccup of dismay and flopped to the floor.

'You have no bloody idea what I go through every day, having to _survive_, having to put up with all the _shit_ I get from people. If you were my

best friend you wouldn't add to it.' He expelled a heavy breath. 'You know, I don't get to run off crying every time things get to hard, that's too much a _luxury_ for the Boy Who Lived, I'm supposed to take it on the chin, act like it doesn't bother me…' He shifted round in his chair to glare at Hermione. 'How the hell would _you_ feel if it was _your_ family who had been murdered by Voldemort?'

Hermione flinched, and tears began to trickle down her pale face. Harry got to his feet, 'Don't want to think about it do you?' He said savagely, lunging forward and grabbed her wrists, she gasped and gazed at him like a rabbit caught in the headlights. 'That's how I feel, Hermione, Sirius _was_ my family, my whole– my only– family, and you expect me to deal with it like the rest of the Order? Could you? _Could you?!' _

'N-No!' Hermione choked out, recoiling from him.

Harry loosened his grip, leaning back slightly, realising that he had let his anger take the best of him, and had ended up taking out all his anger at Dumbledore, the Order, the injustice of Sirius's death, all out on Hermione, which though deserved of some chastising, did not merit him scaring her half to death. He stood up shakily.

'Harry,' Hermione said, her voice wobbling slightly but regaining strength. 'I _never_ thought that you should get over Sirius as quick as that, only that you shouldn't blame yourself for his d-death. And I didn't understand why you wouldn't come to Grimmauld Place–'

'Because that's where he lived– and he hated the place. I don't _want_ to go back there, Hermione. Not yet.'

There was a silence, then Hermione said, 'I'm really, really sorry, Harry.'

Harry waved a hand, feeling deflated and tried, 'Don't bother, I'm going to bed.'

'Um, okay,' Hermione stood up, wiping her face, 'Don't be mad with Ron, Harry, he was just looking out for me.' When Harry didn't respond, she turned to go, patting his back gently as she left, however as soon as her hand connected with his shoulder an intense shooting pain exploded in his head. Harry gasped, clapping a hand to his forehead.

'Harry? Harry! What's wrong?' Hermione moved to grab his arm.

Harry jerked away. 'Don't touch me!' he hissed at her.

'But what– ?'

Harry looked up; the pain was rapidly ebbing away. 'I don't know, just don't – touch–' he broke off, breathing heavily. 'Look Hermione, I'll see you in the morning.'

'Night,' Hermione replied, her eyes glued on him as he left the room.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello! for those of you faithful readers this is a oneshot of what later happened in Blaise and Harry's relationship. I'm sorry if it appears disjointed- its unbeta'd- but I hope it gives some form of closure to the story that I couldn't finish. It takes place when Harry is 24, so a big jump in time- for those of you that read the original it goes on from there, missing out a large chunk of time. I don't have a copy of the original on this computer, so I apologise to those of you who haven't read it, but you're gonna have to use your imaginations for what happens in the time gap, until I am able to upload the rest of the unworked version.**

**That said, please enjoy!**

* * *

**A New Beginning**

Harry stood on the doorstep of the large house still debating whether or not it was still an option to bolt- even if he had just knocked upon the door. Six years had passed since he had last seen Blaise, their last meeting had been an intense explosion of passion that had came and gone at an alarming speed. He remembered the burning look in her eyes when he came to her, she had known he was leaving, they had both known that there was a good chance that he wouldn't ever return, that it would be the last time they would be together. They were eighteen and young and desperate and in love. Their relationship had been generally met with hard looks and disbelief yet the inevitable end that their world was rapidly coming to made them cling to each other all the more. Though it was dangerous, and Harry had often feared for her. But Blaise could be as hard, cold and unforgiving as ice and she was more than capable of taking care of herself- despite this, and her determination to fight at his side, he left her when he went to Voldemort to finally fight it out. He could still clearly recall the memory of her sleeping form in that dim room; her black hair spread across the pillow like an ink stain, her drowsy pale hand questing for the warmth that had disappeared from her side.

Harry snapped back to the present as the door before him was flung open and a small girl blinked up at him. Harry blinked at her; she looked like a miniature more petulant version of the eighteen year old Blaise he remembered, only her eyes were a very familiar green.

They stared at each other for a while before a boy, the same size and almost perfectly identical moved beside the girl. He arrowed an unfriendly glare at Harry and demanded, 'Who are you?' His eyes were grey and his black hair stuck up oddly at the back. Harry felt his hand creeping up to the back of his head to flatten down his own hair as he looked at the pair.

'What is this?' A sharp voice called from the back of the hall. Harry jumped as he recognised it to be Blaise's, a deeper, warmer voice than the one he remembered, but the stuffy tone was still the same. 'You're letting all the cold in,' the voice continued to grumble, and then she appeared before him.

Harry's breath caught in his throat as her eyes met his. She was still Blaise, but- _Merlin_ she had grown up! He found his eyes drinking in the sight of her gorgeous figure and pale face, the mouth now no longer looked pouty but had a pleasant curve to it and her round cheeks had a healthy flush. Absently he noticed that the boy was addressing his mother in a grouchy voice about the odd man that had knocked on their door.

Blaise gaped at him, her grey eyes wide.

_Flump._

The little girl screamed and Harry rushed forward to take Blaise away from the door, who had promptly fainted on seeing her old sweetheart.

Well, it could have been worse, Harry thought dryly to himself as he carried Blaise over to the couch, ignoring the little boy who was whacking him around the shins with a cane and telling him to leave his mother alone.

He quickly assured the two that he was an old friend of their mother's, and took a chair opposite Blaise as he waited her to come to. The girl sat beside him, staring at him in an owlish manner. The boy hovered protectively over Blaise, glowering at Harry and waving his cane around as a warning gesture for Harry to move any closer. Behind him Blaise's eyelids flickered and she breathed in deeply. The little boy turned around and so the first thing she saw was his anxious round face peering at her. Blaise exhaled sharply, 'Oh... Caspian,' she raised a white hand to his cheek, sounding immeasurably relieved.

Then she caught sight of Harry seated behind him and let out a rather undignified squawk. 'Oh my God!' she gabbled, pressing her back into the couch. 'You- Your-' She gasped.

Caspian leapt into action, and Harry had to jump behind the couch to avoid getting hit by the crazed stick-wielding five-year old. The little girl was wailing her head off and Blaise was still doing the best- and undoubtedly the most embarrassing fish-out-of-water impressions he's ever seen. She'd no doubt kill him later for so thoroughly making her loose her cool like this.

Then Blaise pointed dramatically at him crouching behind the table and said, '_But_ _y__ou're dead!_'

There was a brief silence, before both children ran to cower behind their mother, although the boy was still striving to look brave about it, he had come to eh conclusion that his cane wouldn't work on ghosts.

It seemed it _could_ get worse.

Harry got awkwardly to his feet and looked directly at Blaise. She flinched. He tried moving closer but then the girl began to wail again. 'Blaise,' he said softly, looking into her grey eyes. At the sound of his voice she seemed to gather herself and gently pushed her children towards the door. 'Go upstairs now, please, I'm going to have a talk with this man here.'

The boy didn't move, 'What if he tries to hurt you, Mother? I think I should stay.'

Blaise smiled reassuring at him, 'Don't worry about me, this man is an old- acquaintance- of mine, he won't hurt me.'

The boy whispered loudly, 'I don't trust him.'

Blaise stiffened slightly and her expression became severe. Caspian stuck out his bottom lip and moved, dragging his sister behind him, he gave Harry one last parting glare before slamming the door shut behind them and stomping down the hall.

Harry looked at Blaise, looking at him. There were so many things he wanted to say and do. He wanted to take her into his arms and kiss her senseless, he wanted to feel her touch. But he didn't. Instead her name fell from his lips again in a soft sigh.

Then she moved towards him, and Harry realised that she too had had the same thoughts as him- he spread his arms to accept her passionate embrace-

_Smack!_

It appeared that he was sorely mistaken, he thought as the hard slap forced his head to whip to the side and his cheek to burn like fire. The second slap also took him by surprise and he almost stumbled over the coffee table. The third one he caught before it made contact, and he found himself angry and both hopelessly confused at this violent reunion.

Outside Caspian snickered as the sound of his mother's slaps permeated through the door. Then came the shouting.

'How could you _do_ that to me?!' she bawled at Harry, slamming her palms against his chest and pushing him backwards again. 'Where the hell have you _been_?! I thought you were dead, you selfish prick! How could you just _leave_ like that?!'

'Blaise-'

'You abandoned me, you worthless piece of s-'

'_Blaise__-'_

'I waited for you!' she cried, tears spilling down her flushed cheeks. 'I waited as long as I could- _hic_- I-' She broke off to dash her tears away and sagged against the back of the sofa. 'God, I need a drink.'

Harry quickly took charge of the break in her rant. 'Blaise, Blaise, let me explain what happened. Please.'

Blaise glared at him and Harry tried not to wince, he had forgotten how acerbic her gaze could be. 'What could you possibly have to say to me?' she said quietly. 'You _left_. Everyone said that you died when you killed Voldemort- but I didn't believe them- I couldn't- but you never came back. You left me in such a heap of shit- I- I was pregnant you idiot! You got me bloody pregnant!' She started sobbing again, quietly, but when Harry reached out to comfort her she pulled away. 'You have no idea how it's looked upon in our society- a pureblood witch getting pregnant before she marries, it would have ruined our family name.' She sighed and brushed the hair from her eyes, 'My father was set to disown me- mother persuaded him not to, but they were furious about all of what had happened at Hogwarts and my disloyalty to my family by going against their wishes. I didn't tell anyone who the father was, but I knew people still suspected us, from before we decided to keep our relationship quiet.'

'Blaise I'm sorry,' Harry said moving to touch her shoulder. 'I should have ended it before any of this happened.'

Blaise suddenly went still and then rounded on him incredulously, 'Don't you _dare_ say that to me, Potter! Even if all this shit has happened I don't once regret what we did. I have the twins now- they look just like you, you know? It almost broke my heart seeing Fiore's eyes after they were born; they reminded me so much of you.' She moved towards the couch and sat down, summoning two crystal tumblers and a whisky decanter. 'Drink?' she asked out of an ingrained courtesy, as she poured herself a generous measure.

'Er, no thanks,' Harry replied, watching with some awe as she necked the amber liquid in one gulp.

Blaise wiped her face again, her eyes bright. 'Oh Merlin, I must look so awful to you right now.' She laughed shakily but seemed to be lot calmer after a dose of 'dutch-courage'.

Harry took in her red rimmed eyes, and tear stained face and smiled. 'You could never look awful to me Blaise.' The words sounded corny as soon as they left his mouth, Harry realised, inwardly cringing. But they were true.

Blaise snorted then pinned him with her grey eyes, 'So what's the excuse then, Potter? Why do you come back to haunt me like this after so long?' There was a bitterness hiding beneath the playful question and Harry felt his heart constrict within his chest.

'Well after I battled Voldemort there was an explosion. A blast of magic. I don't know what happened really, only that one moment I was stood over his body and then I woke up in a muggle hospital somewhere.' He looked at her soberly, 'My aunt was there. She said I'd been in a coma for the past four years.'

Blaise's face wasn't openly sceptical when she heard those words, and Harry took heart from this. 'That was six months ago,' he continued. 'It took a while before I could get back normal. I stayed with my cousin Dudley- he's not so bad now he's grown up a bit. But I was desperate to find you, and I had no idea what was happening in the magical world, I couldn't understand why no one knew I was still alive. One day I came across Mrs Figg- she's a squib that I used to live by and she-' he laughed humourlessly, 'She almost went into cardiac arrest when she saw me. Apparently there was nothing left after the explosion took place and everyone assumed that I had been obliterated along with it. I think I must have apparated somehow, just before it hit. Some muggles found me and contacted my mother's sister, who chose not to inform any of the wizarding community- she's not very supportive of magic. Well I found out that you had a perfumery in Hogsmeade, so I checked there as soon as I could, but the workers told me you rarely visit there because of your kids.' He looked down at his hands, 'I thought about giving up then, because you'd clearly moved on, but I just had to see you again, so when I found out you lived here I came- and- well, I can tell the kids are mine, heh-' A goofy grin spread across his face at this odd turn of events.

Blaise's lips curled upwards at the corners, then the smile faded and her eyes grew sad. 'I'm married, Harry,' she said softly.

Harry's smile disappeared like a snuffed candle, 'To who?' burst from his mouth before he could prevent them. He reddened slightly but faced Blaise.

Blaise eyes began to grow shiny again, 'You remember Theodore Nott?'

Harry nodded and gripped the fabric of his trousers into his clenched fists. It had been amazing to find Blaise like this, to find the children were his, and all the wild possibilities of them getting back together and raising their family had suddenly been rammed into a brick wall with this unwelcome, but not unexpected news. 'He was that quiet slytherin that used to hang around with Malfoy sometimes- with the brown hair,' he answered morosely.

Blaise nodded, her eyes tearing up again. 'After you left he offered to support me, he claimed the kids as his own and married me so that they weren't born out of wedlock.'

'Decent of him,' Harry found himself saying.

Blaise leaned over and took his hand. 'Don't be like that Harry, he was good to me. If he hadn't have done that my whole family would have been shamed, and I would have had to bring up the twins by myself.'

'Well we can't have that can we?' Harry said sarcastically, his nails biting into his palms.

Blaise drew back a little. 'Merlin, Harry, would you be a bit more grown up about this? This is so hard for me to tell you, and to take in. I can't believe you're here right now.'

Harry gazed at her with frustration, 'I'm trying, Blaise, but I've missed four years in this world that I can't ever get back. I still love you! But you're married to some bloke-'

'_I love you_,' Blaise responded fervently. 'I never stopped loving you- I couldn't- I tried, for Theo's sake, because he really loved me, but I always thought of you, and I felt so guilty all the time.'

'What do you mean, he 'loved' you? Did he divorce you in the end?' Harry said eagerly, hope sending sparks of anticipation down his spine.

Blaise broke eye contact, 'He... passed away, a few years ago.'

Harry suddenly felt like a dick. 'Oh.'

'The children think he's their father,' Blaise continued, still looking into her lap. 'I thought it best they were brought up that way.'

Harry took her hand in his again; it looked so small and delicate against his. 'I think you made the right decision,' he said after a moment.

Blaise smiled again and looked up at him, 'Oh Harry,' she said breathily. 'How much you've changed.' Her fingers gently brushed his fringe back to trace the lightening bolt scar.

Harry grinned, 'It was quite a shock looking in the mirror after I woke up,' he agreed. His face turned serious again, 'Blaise, I'd really like to get to know the kids- I mean, it's weird waking up and finding out your a father but I really want to see them grow up and all that.'

Blaise smiled prettily a slight dimple appearing in one of her cheeks, 'I'd like that,' she said softly. 'But Harry, I don't think we should tell them about us until they get used to you.'

Harry laughed and ran a hand through his hair, 'No we shouldn't tell them for a long time- they might freak out if they find out that I'm they're father.'

'I didn't mean that,' she replied, a calculating look in her eyes. 'I think the whole wizarding world will freak out when they hear Wonderboy returned from the dead. Mind you- only you _would_ pull off a stunt like that.'

Harry didn't know whether to be pleased by that or miffed, he instead decided to respond to what Blaise had said before. 'What did you mean th-'

'Kiss me you idiot.'

* * *

There was a rap on the wooden door to my laboratory; I quickly dowsed the fire beneath the minute cauldron and emptied its contents into a series of glass phials. 'Child or adult?' I called out as I carefully measured the shimmering purple liquid into each container.

There was a muffled giggling from behind the door, and then a male voice sighed and called out 'Both.'

'I'll be two minutes,' I said, corking the bottles with a flick of my wand and quickly cleaning up the work surfaces. I then banished all the phials save one to the uppermost shelf in my cupboard. I slipped the remaining one into my robes and moved towards the door.

As soon as it opened Fiore flung her small arms around my waist, 'Mother, Uncle Harry bought me this ribbon!' She waved the bright red item around in the air excitedly, her green eyes sparkling. 'Uncle' Harry shifted his feet, looking uncomfortable but pleased as he watched my face. That intense green stare still made words stick in my throat and thought process slow to the bare minimum. I swallowed and opted to look at my 6 year old daughter instead.

'It's very pretty, flower, but wouldn't you like me to put in your hair for you?' I ran a hand through her soft black hair.

Fiore shook her head stubbornly, 'It's not a hair ribbon!' She shook it at me for further emphasis.

'Where is your brother?' I asked.

'Here, Mother.' Caspian said, moving from behind Harry. Unlike his twin, he had not yet taken to Harry's presence in their lives, but he was steadily cultivating a grudging respect for Harry (on finding out that 'Uncle' Harry was also the Saviour of the wizarding world), this did not bother me that much because Caspian was always slow to take to strangers, he was much like Theodore in that respect.

'Caspian doesn't like my ribbon,' Fiore told the whole room in a scandalised voice.

I looked at Caspian and winked at him, 'Well it _is_ in Gryffindor colours, flower.'

Caspian smiled and Harry mocked an outraged expression. 'You hear that, Fiore? Your mother just dissed Gryffindor!' he swept Fiore into his arms and she giggled happily.

'Slytherin is way better!' Caspian spoke up, actually participating in a discussion with Harry for once. 'Mother was in Slytherin!'

'And Uncle Harry was in Gryffindor!' Fiore retorted, poking her tongue out at her brother. 'Gryffindor is the best!'

'Is not!'

Harry looked over Fiore's head to meet my eyes, his mouth was twitching, 'This is vaguely familiar,' he commented.

I smirked at him, 'Slytherin is better, you know.'

Harry rolled his eyes and put Fiore back down, where she and Caspian took off to the garden, Harry had been trying (and failing) to build them a treehouse of sorts, it had taken the combined efforts of the Weasley men, who were a lot more practical than Harry, to construct the wooden box in the tree. The whole thing looked rather dubious to me, but Harry assured me it was a common thing to have as a muggle child, though he himself had never been in one. Which probably explained why he spent so much time up there with the kids. Typical man.

Harry twined his hands through mine and pulled me towards him, he was slightly taller now, his hair a bit longer but just as messy as ever, I hated and loved the way he made my heart stammer in my chest and my knees go weak every time he looked into my eyes, those stupid, beautiful, enrapturing eyes...

'...me?'

'Hmm...?' I blinked, jerking myself out of the vapid lovesick expression that had stuck on my face when I looked into his eyes. Why was it that I could never look dignified when he was around?

Harry was blushing slightly and my mouth quirked into a smile, cute. 'I said,' he mumbled, going pinker by the second. 'Would you marry me?'

I gawked at him for a few seconds, it must have taken Harry weeks of practicing to say those words without them sounding like that had been mashed together and spewed out.

'EH?!'

Harry overcame his embarrassment somewhat to peer at me curiously, 'Uh, Blaise are you okay?'

Oh Merlin. This should not be happening. I was a twenty-five year old mother, I was a successful business woman, a moral upstander for wizarding society! I was also hopelessly in love with an ex-gryffindor who had a serious hero-complex who had also asked me to marry him. Unfortunately my mind had sped up during this momentous time, whilst my body had- deteriorated in a sense.

'Uh, Blaise, you're drooling on me.'

Even this wasn't enough to wake me from my stupor, I finally slurred at him, 'Sure, why the hell not?' Before collapsing in a boneless puddle at his feet.

I was dimly aware of Caspian appearing at my side and yelling accusingly at Harry, 'You did it again!'

I sighed dreamily, Blaise Potter, eh? Who'd have thought?

_End_

* * *

**Yup, that's it folks: the ending. I won't be writing any more for this story but am happy to have laid it to rest- somewhat. Thank you everyone for reading Stupid is as Stupid Does (a fic which seems to have very little relevance to its title) I hope you enjoyed it, thank you for your reviews over the years (that looks really bad when I realise I haven't updated this in so long!)**

**Yours with gratitude,**

**Queen Of Bohemia**


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